


Happily Ever After

by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)



Series: If Wishing Made It So [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Steve Rogers, Bisexual Steve Rogers, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, POV Multiple, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve Rogers, Skinny Steve, genie Bucky Barnes, it's a collection of one-shots, maria hill is only here for like 5 seconds sadly, this isn't one story, tying up those loose ends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 17:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6763096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkeygreen/pseuds/leveragehunters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>And they lived happily ever after...</i> After the story comes the happily ever after. Everyone knows that. Bucky and Steve are no different. They're safe and together and living their happily ever after. But when one of you is a genie who was enslaved for over a thousand years and one of you is the human who set him free, your happily ever after may just be a bit more complicated than everyone else's.  </p><p>This is a sequel to <i><a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6652381/chapters/15215737">If Wishing Made it So</a></i>, a collection of (mostly) unconnected short one-shot fics, tying up some of the loose ends it left behind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Theoretical Concepts

**Author's Note:**

> I never expected such a positive response to _If Wishing Made It So_. Honestly, when I posted it, I thought no one would read it because it was such a strange idea, and I was just blown away when people did, so thank you. Thank you to everyone who read it and left kudos and left comments; you are all the best!

The genie was aware that humans existed, living their lives under the sun and the moon. One specific human, who was the particular focus of his life, was currently a reassuring weight across his chest.

Genies weren't naturally confined to a physical form, had to create one, spinning it out of power and magic. Bucky had chosen to keep this body, flawed as some might think it with only a single arm, because it was the body that knew Steve.

The thing about bodies, he'd discovered, was that the touch of skin against skin could drive you a little mad, could make you lose yourself entirely.  He'd understood human sexuality in the theoretical—you don't grant wishes for a thousand years without gaining a thorough understanding of the human obsession with sex—had recognised his strange physical need for Steve, like nothing he'd ever felt.

It had in no way prepared him.

The first time, he'd lost control of his magic, stared up at Steve with wide, surprised eyes. Steve had laughed, the sound pure joy, kissed him as the golden fire of Bucky's power surged out of him, as the flames had risen high to wreathe them in heat and light.

Steve, content and sleepy, his breath a cool whisper across Bucky's throat, shifted as if he was going to move off him. Bucky wrapped his arm tight around his waist and, when Steve glanced up, frowned. It simply made Steve smile and settle back across him. "I guess I'm not moving?"

"No." He sounded almost grumpy, but his mouth was curving and he kissed the top of Steve's head and ran one hand slowly up his spine, tracing the familiar line of his back. 

"Good thing you're comfortable," he said on a sigh, tipping his head sideways and rubbing his cheek against Bucky's chest.

Bucky didn't reply, just kept moving his hand slowly up and down Steve's back, thinking. It was strange that this was when his mind worked the most. Here, in the stillness and the quiet, Steve safe and warm against him, no barriers between them, his thoughts flowed like fire.

He felt Steve begin to drift off, his heart slowing, his breathing becoming deeper. Bucky would stay until Steve was soundly asleep then would leave to follow his own pursuits. Steve was adamant that Bucky act on his freedom; Bucky had learned arguing with Steve was usually futile if Steve thought he was arguing _for_ Bucky.

He would leave soon.

Bucky ran his fingers gently along the line of Steve's jaw and smiled as, even in his sleep, Steve shifted to press against his hand.

Probably.


	2. The Words You Say

Steve had a headache. He hated meeting corporate clients in corporate offices. He'd spent the last ten minutes of the meeting imagining setting them on fire with his mind. It had been deeply satisfying, but hadn't done much for his headache.

All he wanted was a cup of coffee, maybe (definitely) a hug, and to not deal with anymore assholes for at least a week.

He opened the door and walked into the apartment. Stopped. Looked around. Took in the fact that it was five times larger than it had been, with skylights, polished wooden floors, split levels. There was a fireplace. The whole thing looked like an escapee from Architectural Digest. He looked at Bucky, who was standing serenely pleased in the middle of it.

Steve walked back out the door. Looked at the outside wall, which was the same size it had always been. He walked back inside and carefully shut the door. His head throbbed. "Bucky?" he asked, voice carefully patient.

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm confused. How is it bigger on the inside?"

Bucky shrugged. "I borrowed some extra space no one was using."

"That doesn't make me less confused."

"It's magic, Steve."

"Okay, magic." Steve rubbed his forehead. "Can I ask why?"

"I thought you'd like it."

"I liked our apartment." And even with a headache and whatever was happening right now, there was a little thrill he couldn't quite help at _our apartment._ "I thought _you_ liked our apartment. Didn't you?"

"I did, I do, but wouldn't it be nice to have more space?"

"If you want more space we could move," he pointed out.

"This way we don't have to," Bucky said. "If you don't like it, I can change it. I can make it anything you want." The apartment changed around them, golden floor turning dark, split levels disappearing, the walls turning to dark wood and deep green wallpaper, resembling an English manor house.

Steve stared. His head throbbed.

"Different colours, different furniture, different views out the window." The air had a faint golden hue, the colour of Bucky's magic. The apartment continued to change as Bucky spoke, taking on different appearances, the landscape visible out the window flipping past like a highway roadside.

"Bucky..." It was making Steve vaguely motion sick.

"Anything you want. Anywhere you want. Find me a picture of what you like and I can make it a reality."

It was too much. "Will you shut up about the apartment," Steve snapped, then froze. It was too ingrained, to not say _anything_ to Bucky he'd have to obey; had been part of Steve for as long as Bucky had. His instincts still screamed at him, even when he knew it no longer mattered.

Bucky understood instantly, was in front of him almost as quickly. The apartment settled around them.

"Steve, hey." He pressed his hand against Steve's cheek, thumb rubbing reassurance into his skin. "It doesn't work anymore. It's okay."

It only took a few seconds to fade, for the knowledge that Bucky was _free_ to override the gut reaction that he'd screwed up. "I know. I just forgot for a second."

"I can see that." Steve leaned into Bucky's hand and closed his eyes, brows pinched in pain. Bucky rubbed his nose over the little wrinkle between Steve's eyebrows. "You okay?"

"Headache."

Steve felt the spark of power flow through him, washing the headache away, taking with it aches and tension he hadn't even been aware of. He sighed in relief.  "Thanks."

There were a few beats of silence before Bucky said, "You still practice what you're going to say before you say it. I see you doing it."

Steve opened his eyes. "I've been doing it since I first met you; it's kind of a tough habit to break."

"And you did really good." Bucky dropped a kiss on the bridge of Steve's nose. Pressed a light kiss to his mouth. "All those months and you only slipped once."

"Twice."

Bucky looked at him questioningly.

"I trapped you in the apartment and I told you to shut up."

"You didn't know you trapped me in the apartment; that doesn't count." Steve's face went stubborn and Bucky rolled his eyes. "Fine, _twice_. You can't make anything easy can you?" Steve gave a small breath of laughter. "All those months and you only slipped _twice_.  What you need now is practice."

"Practice."

"Exactly. Practice. Tell me to do something."

Steve's brows drew down. "Tell you do what, exactly?"

"Anything! Pick something. Tell me to do it. Come on, Steve." Bucky poked him gently in the side and grinned when Steve batted his hand away. "You can think of something. Tell me to stand on one leg."

With the air of someone humouring a person of questionable sanity, Steve said, "Bucky, stand on one leg."

"Not going to happen, sorry," he replied and poked Steve gently in the side again. "Try something else."

"Stop poking me, how about that."

"That's definitely not going to happen." He went to poke Steve again and Steve grabbed his hand. Bucky didn't try to pull away, just folded his fingers over Steve's. "Tell me to do something else."

"Like what?"

"Something bigger."

" _Don't_ put the apartment back the way it was."

"Really? That's what you're going with?"

Steve lifted his eyebrows in challenge and Bucky sighed. The apartment returned to its unaltered state. "Thank you," Steve said.

"You really didn't like it," Bucky said after a long pause.

"It wasn't that I didn't like it," Steve replied, squeezing Bucky's fingers.  "It was beautiful. It's that, I don't know, Bucky. You can't just give me everything. I know you _could_ ," he added, when Bucky seemed ready to protest. "You could give me everything in the world. But even with you, I still need to live my life. I need to do the things I've always done. If you do everything for me, I won't be me anymore."

"You have to let me do some things," Bucky said.

"But—"

"No," he said, interrupting. "I understand, I think. You still need to do things for yourself. Even though it would be a hell of a lot easier just to let me look after everything."

" _Bucky_." Steve's voice held a note of warning.

"I'm not saying I'm going to, I'm just saying it would be easier. But you can't do everything and tell me I can't do anything. That's just as bad."

Steve studied Bucky, who was wearing a disturbingly familiar stubborn expression.  He thought about it, turning it over in his head. He blew out a breath. "Okay, compromise. No mansions, though, nothing like that."

Bucky laughed softly under his breath and lifted Steve's hand to kiss his knuckles. "Other humans wished for palaces.  I had to threaten you with a cow to keep us from running out of milk."

"Would you really have magiced up a cow?"

Bucky smirked. "What do you think?"

"I think that's a new rule: no livestock. No turning the apartment into a mansion and no livestock."

"How about this." Bucky turned around, tilted his head, and the apartment was slightly larger. The walls were the same, the view was the same, the floor was the same. The only difference was that the corner where Steve had his makeshift studio was twice the size it had been. "Compromise. What do you think?" Bucky asked. "It will just make it...easier for you to do what you do."

Part of Steve knew he should protest, tell him to put it back the way it had been. The rest of him just felt a stupidly warm rush of love at the gesture. "I think I need more practice," he said. "Telling you what to do."

"Oh?"

"Kiss me."

"Practicing doesn't work if you tell me to do something I _want_ to do," Bucky pointed out, and bent his head to kiss him.


	3. Decapitation, Defenestration, and Destruction

"We need to talk." Steve set down his empty cup and gave Bucky a serious look.

Bucky glanced up from his coffee, partially distracted by the muted gasp from the table of women sitting behind them. "Okay?"

"Not here." _Here_ was a coffee shop in downtown Melbourne, because when Steve wanted to go out for coffee Bucky sometimes took a creative approach to _out._

Bucky shrugged and tipped his head in the direction of the door, following Steve as he led the way outside. As he passed the table of women, one reached out to pat his arm, making him stare down at her. "There you are, luv, it'll work out all right." He drew his arm away with a sharp glare, sidestepping to move out of her reach.

He could feel their eyes on him all the way to the door and, unfortunately, hear them.

"If that boy doesn't want him, I'll take him. With one arm, I bet he tries harder."

"Sheila! That's seriously inappropriate!"

"What? Look at him. He's _fine_."

"And about half your age."

"Shut it, Karen. Like you weren't thinking the same thing."

He shivered all over as they stepped into the sun, as if their attention was something physical he could shed. Steve looked at him quizzically. "Apparently if you don't want me anymore, those women will take me," he explained, lip curling slightly at the thought.

Steve's mouth flattened as he obviously tried to supress a smile. "I hope you don't mind taking me home before you throw me over for the locals. I don't even have my passport."

"Very funny." Bucky stepped into Steve and tilted his head so they were nose to nose.

Steve smirked at him, palms flat against Bucky's chest. "I thought so."

"What do you need to talk about?"

His grin faded. "Not here either."

"Home?"

"Home."

Bucky wrapped his hand around the back of Steve's neck, letting his fingers slide through Steve's hair. When a laughing group of people walked between them and the window of the coffee shop, they disappeared off the Melbourne street.

The apartment was bright and airy and only slightly larger than its floor plans suggested it should be, Steve's makeshift studio now a proper space in which he could work.  It was their compromise, neither wanting to leave this place.

Bucky didn't ask again, just stepped away from Steve, moving to lean expectantly against the window to the right of the overstuffed chair.

Steve followed, pulling himself to sit cross-legged on the chair's arm, facing Bucky. "I know you told me never to say their name, never to think it, but I want to talk about HYDRA."

Bucky's eyes flared gold, the blue he'd masked them with burning off, and he went still. "Why?"

"Because you told me they want to rule the world. If what they did to you," he shivered slightly and Bucky shifted closer, so his hip was pressed against Steve's knee, "if what Alexander Pierce was, if that's what they are, we can't just do nothing. I asked you once if there was anything we could do, if we could stop them. And you said—"

"And I said there wasn't." Bucky had been half-expecting this conversation, was surprised it hadn't happened earlier. "Then. The situation's different now."

"It is."

"And you want to know what we can do about them."

Steve nodded.

Bucky let out a sharp breath. "I might have some ideas."

Steve reached out and touched Bucky's side. "I thought you might," he waved his other hand in the air, "just have made them go away."

"No."

"Is there a reason?" Steve asked carefully.

"They're too sunk into too many places. I couldn’t just," he waved his hand, mimicking Steve's gesture, sending a swirl of gold through the air to whirl around Steve. "Magic has consequences. The bigger the action, the bigger the consequences. It's what humans never understood when they used their wishes. It's why they almost always went wrong."

"What have you been thinking?"

"Of dealing with them directly. But it would take time, to wipe them out completely, time I'd be away from you."

"You said no one knows about them."

"They don't." 

Bucky had the sense that Steve was picking his words carefully as he spoke. "If you wipe them out, so no one ever knew they were there, what's to stop something just as bad from taking their place?"

Bucky didn't answer.

"No one will know to watch for them." Steve's hand against his side curled, fingers sliding against his ribs.  "They won't know HYDRA was ever there. They won't be able to undo the damage because they won't know it ever happened."

"What do you want to do?"

"Tell them. Tell them about HYDRA. Give them a chance to put things right themselves."

It was not what he'd been expecting, which was what he should have expected. He wondered if Steve would ever stop surprising him. "You think they'll believe me."

"You can get proof. There must be evidence. Maybe HYDRA can hide it from other humans. There's no way they can hide it from you."

He blew out a sharp breath and tipped his head back.  Considering. Looked down to study Steve's face, stubborn and earnest. Realised he didn't have it in him to say no. "All right, Steve. The humans can have a chance to deal with it. But if it doesn't work, I'm taking care of what's left."

"That's fair." There was no doubt in Steve's voice, no hesitation. "What can I do to help?"

"If we're going to do this we're going to need someone to start with. You're human; you'll see things I can't."

"Whatever I can do, Bucky. I'll do it."

 

* * *

 

They chose SHIELD, because SHIELD was where it started. It was the first place he'd twisted people to believe HYDRA's servants belonged. It was where HYDRA had begun its spread, creeping unseen through the world, like maggots in a belly wound. It had not been his will but it had been his power that brought them here and he found it bothered him more than he liked.

"Where are we?"

"The Triskelion, it's one of SHIELD's major bases."

Bucky and Steve were walking through the corridors, unseen. Bucky in the full possession of his powers had no difficulty explaining gently to the security systems, the cameras, the alarms, that they simply weren't here. People chose paths that naturally avoided them.

"SHIELD is riddled with HYDRA, has been since it started. It was the first place I helped HYDRA infiltrate."

"Made."

Bucky raised an eyebrow in question.

"They made you, you didn't help them."

"This was the first place HYDRA used my powers to infiltrate. Better?"

"Much."

They'd narrowed it down to two people: the Director of SHIELD and Agent Maria Hill. Steve wanted to see them before he chose.

They made their way to Agent Hill's office, stood in the corner observing. People came and went and Steve watched and listened. It didn't take long before they had an inkling of exactly what sort of person they were dealing with.

Someone had just left the office. She was rising up from her chair and looking right where they were standing. Her hand was on her gun. "Are you sure she can't see us?" Steve asked

"I'm sure she can't see us, or hear us, or smell us. I'm not sure she doesn’t know something's here. This is why she's on the list. She's not HYDRA, she's dangerous, and she's incredibly competent."

Eyes fixed on their corner of her office, she spoke into her uniform. "This is Agent Hill, possible security breach, my office."

"Let's go." Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve's shoulders and they disappeared, moments before Maria Hill walked through the space they'd been standing. They reappeared underneath a silver eagle sculpture.

"Not her," Steve said firmly. "She'll shoot you before you can open your mouth."

"It won't hurt me."

"Not her, Bucky. Pick the Director. She's not going to listen to you. She's going to shoot you. She's going to _keep_ shooting you and when she runs out of bullets, I'm pretty sure she'll throw the gun."

 

* * *

 

Nicholas Fury was the Director of SHIELD. His office was secured against even the most elite of human infiltrators. Bucky wasn't human. He simply didn't exist as far as the security measures were concerned and they peacefully continued to report that all was well as Fury stepped into his office.

The door gently drifted shut behind him.

Bucky was sitting cross-legged on his desk, watching calmly. He'd deliberately made himself as unassuming, as unthreatening, as possible, was sitting relaxed in jeans and a t-shirt, sleeve hanging empty over his left shoulder, boot laces trailing. His eyes, though, were shining gold.

HYDRA had made Bucky a predator. This man, he suspected, had been born one.

There was no hesitation, no moment of thought, just a smooth, simple drawing of his gun, pointed straight between Bucky's eyes as he slapped a communicator on his jacket. "Director Fury, security breach, unidentified intruder in my office." When there was no response, he did it again.

"They can't hear you."

"And why would that be?"

"Right now we're in a moment out of time. As soon as the door shut, I moved us sideways. No one can hear us, no one can see us. As far as anyone outside this office is concerned, time's not passing."

"Really."

Bucky nodded.

"And why would you do that?"

"Because SHIELD is full of snakes you can't see. I'm here to help you clean them out."

"Out of the goodness of your heart, I suppose."

"Not my heart, no."

The man studied him, a one-eyed eagle's glare that Bucky met with a mild look of his own. "What are you?" he asked. "I know you're not human."

"I'm a genie. And no, I'm not here to give you three wishes."

"Huh."

It was the mildest reaction Bucky had ever had to that particular revelation. He was almost disappointed. "You can put your gun away. Bullets don't hurt me."

"You mind if I test that out first?"

Bucky sighed. "If you feel you have to."

Something that could have been amusement flitted through Fury's eye, there and gone so fast even Bucky couldn't swear he'd seen it. The gun disappeared as smoothly as it had appeared. 

"Tell me what you have to say."

"HYDRA."

Bucky had thought he'd had the man's full attention before; he'd been wrong. "HYDRA? HYDRA the crazy-ass World War Two lunatics? The SSR wiped them out."

"No. HYDRA rebuilt itself inside SHIELD and spread itself everywhere. They have people inside businesses, inside governments, all over the world. SHIELD is just one of their tools."

"And what is it that HYDRA is using SHIELD to do?"

Bucky could tell that Fury was humouring him. He was hard to read, but there was a hint of that half-sensed amusement and a taste of something like anger. It didn't concern him. He'd only promised Steve he'd give the humans a chance; it was up to them to take it. Or not. "They want to rule the world, turn it into their version of perfect order."

"You're telling me HYDRA's been operating inside SHIELD for, what, seventy years, and no one's noticed? That they've been running some sort of secret agenda aimed at taking over the world and everyone's just been merrily going along with it?"

"Yes."

"You know how that sounds."

"Yes." Bucky raised one finger and files appeared in a pile on the floor in the corner of the office. Stacks of files, some old and brown. There was a laptop on top, several USB drives on top of that. "Here's the proof. As long as they're in your office, no one but you will be able to see them. It's the only protection I can give you."

Silence spread through the office like a living thing, a prowling, pacing beast, as the reality of the files seemed to sink in, seemed to give weight to Bucky's words. That sharp stare fixed itself on Bucky once more and this time it was angry. "Alexander Pierce is missing. Has been for awhile now. They have anything to do with that?"

"What happened to Alexander Pierce was a direct result of HYDRA," Bucky replied. It was, technically, the absolute truth. "It's in the files." Let the man discover it himself.

Once more, something passed through Fury's eye, but this was cold and merciless. "One question. You're not human. Why do you care?"

"As long as HYDRA exists they're a danger to the world. Something I...value is _in_ the world. I won't allow him to be collateral damage." Bucky smiled like a razor. "Think of this as collateral protection."

"Collateral protection. I like that."

"I can give you a gift that will help," he found himself saying. He hadn't been planning on this, but there was _something_ about this particular human.

"I've heard about gifts from people like you. Most of the stories I'm familiar with, they generally turn out to be a bad idea."

"Not this one. No strings attached, but it won't be comfortable. I can give you the ability to know if someone is HYDRA, to see it like a shadow on their skin. You won't be able to turn it off. But you'll know."

"Think I'll pass. I already see more than I want to."

Bucky nodded.

"And get off my damn desk."

Bucky disappeared.


	4. There is No Line

A sudden storm had blown up while Steve was meeting with new clients at the Mom and Pop Diner, sending rain hammering against the windows.  The meeting had gone incredibly well. The place was actually called the Mom and Pop Diner, which Steve was pretty tickled about, they'd _listened_ to his suggestions, and they'd fed him one of the best milkshakes he'd ever had.  He was going to have to talk to Sam and Nat about checking the place out.

(He ignored the twinge that thought gave him, because he was having a good day, and he was running out of excuses not to see them, and no, he was not thinking about this today.)

Between the sudden rainstorm and the fact that it was not quite the middle of the business day, when people who didn't work for themselves were stuck in offices at the mercy of rostered hours, there were very few people out on the streets.

That suited Steve just fine.

The rain had cleared and the air was filled with the rich, earthy scent it had left behind. The sun was high enough to cast long and interesting shadows, and the only other person he'd seen was a dog-walker who'd been happy to spare him five minutes to drop to the sidewalk and pat her charges.  It was one of those days when he was just _happy_ , the feeling spreading through him like sunshine.

The tearing crash of metal and the desperate squealing of abused brakes smashed through the peace of the day and Steve nearly jumped out of skin, heart pounding. He realised what it was almost instantly and spun around to help, only to run smack into Bucky.  Bucky whose eyes were bright gold. Bucky who snaked his arm around him, pulling him close, and wrapped him in magic.

Steve tried to push past him and didn't succeed in doing more than spotting the accident.

A large SUV, black, had backed at what must have been speed into another large SUV, parked, and crushed the passenger side into a crumpled mess.  The driver of the SUV was already leaping out of his vehicle. The man Steve assumed owned the parked SUV was sprinting towards the crash and since no one was hurt, and people were crowding out of a nearby building already on their phones, he felt free to turn his entire attention to Bucky.  

"What are you _doing_ here?"

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked instead of answering. "What happened?"

"There was an accident." The gold of Bucky's eyes was fading as he seemed to realise there was no danger. Something he might be wrong about. Steve's eyes narrowed. "How did you know something happened?"

"You were scared. I felt it."

"The noise surprised me, is all. I wasn't expecting it," he said. "What do you mean you felt it?"

Bucky didn't answer. Steve put one hand against his chest and pushed, stepping back, and Bucky let him go, his arm falling to his side. Steve felt his magic slide away, the warmth falling off his skin. "What do you mean you felt it?" he asked again.

Bucky went still, in a way Steve almost never saw anymore. "I can feel when you're afraid."

"How?"

Once again, Bucky didn't answer. The rise and fall of the crowd's voice as the conflict of the crashed cars ebbed and flowed seemed very distant. Steve stared at Bucky, trying to figure out what was happening. "Bucky."

"I used magic."

"You used magic on me so you'd know when I was afraid."

"Yes."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. It was an unsettling thought, especially with Bucky standing so inhumanly still.  "How about you get us out of here."

"Home?"

"No. I feel like I might to need to yell. Loudly."

Without a word, Bucky folded his arm around Steve and Steve closed his eyes. He opened them to brilliant green.  They were standing on a grass-covered plateau near the edge of a several hundred foot drop, a carpet of emerald grass stretching out as far as Steve could see. The sun was high and hot above them in a perfect cloudless sky, birds of prey lazily circling.  Steve looked questioningly at Bucky.

"You wanted somewhere you could yell." Bucky had moved a few feet away.

"Explain," Steve said, voice flat.

"I put a link on you, back before you freed me."

"That does...?"

"It lets me know when you're afraid or hurt or angry. It's how I know you're safe. It's how I know if you're in danger, if you need me." Bucky was like a statue now, silhouetted against the sunlight. "I can always find you so I can get to you instantly."

"For how long?"

"Since the night you came home, when you got hurt helping the homeless man."

He felt anger rising, that Bucky would do that without asking. That he would leave it on, without telling him, without asking him, even after their relationship changed. "That's not okay. You can't do things like that, not without asking first. You have to take it off."

"I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"I mean I can't take it off you. I need it."

"Bucky..."

"I watched Pierce put a gun to your head. You were going to die." Bucky's eyes were sharp and strange and inhuman, the gold burning bright, his voice eerily calm. "I _knew_ you were going to die. I _knew_ I couldn't save you. That's never going to happen again. I won't lose you."

Steve's anger died, impossible to sustain in the face of Bucky's words, of the memory of that day. "Bucky, you're not going to lose me."

Suddenly, Bucky was in motion. He pushed forward into Steve, wrapped his hand in Steve's shirt, fist clenched, knuckles white. "You're human. I could lose you to random chance, to some stupid accident, to human malice. I will not let that happen. _I will not_." Steve swallowed, eyes wide, but he didn't step back, didn't move. Bucky's expression was fierce as he pressed closer. "I need that link so I know if you need me, so I can get to you in time.  I'm not going to lose you."

Bucky's body was like steel against him, eyes so bright they were casting golden highlights across his skin, only his chest moving as he pulled in harsh breaths. Steve felt a strange calmness flowing through him in response.

Gently, as gently as he knew how, like Bucky was glass that could shatter at the wrong touch, at the wrong word, he pressed the tips of his fingers to the nape of Bucky's neck. Bucky shivered under his touch. He ran them up into Bucky's hair. Applied the tiniest amount of pressure and Bucky bowed his head to tuck his face into the crook of Steve's neck. He cupped his other hand around Bucky's empty left shoulder, pushing the shirt sleeve back to rub his thumb across Bucky's silvery-pale skin.

His heart was aching. He hadn't known Bucky felt this. He'd always been protective, since that first time in the Mission District; had become more watchful, more aware, since they'd come together. Steve had thought...well, he hadn't thought. He'd just assumed it was more of the same. He'd never realised Bucky had this desperation at the heart of him. He'd hidden it completely.

Steve closed his eyes, asking himself if he could live with this, live with the knowledge that Bucky would always know, know if he was afraid or hurt or angry.  Realised that, for Bucky, if it was what he needed, he could. Realised that, if he was feeling any of those things, Bucky would know anyway, sooner or later. 

"I'll make a deal with you," he said quietly, opening his eyes. "It can stay on three conditions." Bucky made a noise, small and questioning. "The first one is, you never do anything like that again without us talking about it first. And at the end it's my call."

Bucky was silent for a long time. He tipped his head to press his face into Steve's neck. Took a deep breath. Steve kept running his fingers gently through Bucky's hair, his thumb across the silvery skin where the metal arm used to be. "Yes," he said into Steve's skin. 

He turned his head to kiss Bucky's temple. "The second, you give me one, too. One for you that I can feel. So we're equal. You can feel me and I can feel you. Can you do that?" Bucky nodded. "Okay. Third, you only interfere if it's absolutely necessary," he said, very aware he was trusting Bucky to decide what absolutely necessary meant. "All right?"

Bucky lifted his head, eyes meeting Steve's, searching them, obviously just as aware that Steve was trusting him with _absolutely necessary._ "All right."

He looked strangely vulnerable in a way Steve wasn't used to seeing. The gold of his eyes was pale, banked. Steve brought both hands up to hold his face. "It's okay. I love you. I don't want you to lose me, either." He smiled a little, drawing a tentative answering smile from Bucky. "Can you do it now?"

"Yes. It's going to feel...strange." Bucky unclenched his fingers, flattened his hand against Steve's chest, and Steve felt a spot of heat, like a hook under his sternum. "You can tell me to stop." It unfurled like a flower under his skin and Steve staggered, would have fallen if Bucky hadn't braced his arm around his waist.  "You okay, Stevie?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It just took me by surprise." He could feel it under his ribs, like a tiny sun, a coiled warmth connecting him to Bucky.

Steve felt Bucky's muscles shift against him as tension flowed out of him. "You won't feel anything from me unless," Bucky lifted his hand, let it fall back to rest on Steve's hip, fingers splayed, "but it's always there."

"It feels good, Buck." He placed his hand over Bucky's heart. "Let's go home."


	5. Penguins in Love

"Shoo. Shoo, go on." Steve waved his hands, trying to discourage the penguin who seemed extremely intent on his shoes. The rest of the colony was ignoring him. "Bucky, I don't suppose you could..."

Bucky grinned. "I don't speak penguin, if that's what you're about to ask."

"I wasn't," Steve replied. "I was thinking you could give him a little push? I don't want to hurt him."

"He comes up to your knees. I don't think you're going to hurt him. And he likes you, Steve. You don't want to hurt his feelings."

Steve's eyes narrowed. "I’m going to hurt something in a minute and it's not going to be the penguin."

Bucky laughed and a small pile of tiny squid appeared behind the enamoured penguin. It twitched, tilted its head, then waddled over to start eating. "There you go. I guess he doesn't love you after all."

Steve snorted and went back to watching the penguins, pointedly ignoring Bucky.

Antarctica was beautiful. It made him itch to paint, to draw, to capture it in any way he could. He had his camera, was taking photos so he could do exactly that, but he knew it wouldn’t be the same as doing it from real life. 

It should be cold. It _was_ cold. Bucky had, reluctantly, let him feel the _actual_ temperature for a few seconds before wrapping Steve tightly in his magic. Even those few seconds had left him shivering and gasping until he'd felt the golden warmth of Bucky's power soothing his lungs, his skin, like honey against the rawness, blocking the cold. With Bucky's magic, it felt like a warm spring day back home.

Leaving the penguins, they passed across the surface of snow and ice, leaving no footprints to mark their passage as they walked towards the water. The animals seemed to have no fear of humans or genies; with the exception of the briefly infatuated penguin, they ignored both Steve and Bucky.

Bucky slipped his arm around Steve's shoulders as they reached the edge: a sheer drop, sculpted ice twisted by the wind and waves, looking out over blue water so deep it was almost black. Steve leaned into Bucky's side. "Bucky, this is amazing. Thank you." An orca broke the surface, fin cutting through the water. It was joined by two others and Steve snapped a dozen photos before they disappeared from view, heading towards the open ocean.

Steve paged through the photos, struck by the thought that he'd have to hide them. He couldn’t share them with Natasha, with Sam. He couldn't explain how he had them. Not without lying. If— _when_ —he tried to capture the absolute stillness of this place, a stillness that reminded him so much of Bucky, and they asked 'why Antarctica?', when he'd never been one for landscapes, he'd have to lie.

When they next saw Bucky and asked, _what happened to his arm?_ and _how did it heal so quickly?_ , when no human who lost an arm could heal so quickly, he'd have to lie.

He couldn’t lie to them. Not anymore. Not forever. "Bucky?"

"Steve?"

"I want to tell them."

"The penguins?"

Steve looked up. He could see Bucky knew he wasn't talking about the penguins. "No, not the penguins. I mean, sure, we can start with them. But you know what I mean."

"Your friends, Sam and Natasha. You want to tell them about me." Bucky was giving nothing away, his golden eyes as still and deep as the dark water in front of them.

"You can trust them."

"No I can't." 

"Bucky..."

"I can't, Steve. There's exactly one human in the entire universe I can trust."

"Oh." Steve didn't know how to feel, the weight of future lies competing with the gift of Bucky's trust.

They watched the water in silence as the orcas returned, sleek and black, fins cutting across the surface like knives. The wind picked up, kicking eddies of snow around them, as if confused by their presence.

"I can't trust them. But I do trust _you_ ," Bucky said after some time had passed. "And I won't make you lie for me. I know that's no part of who you are. If this is what you need to do, I understand. I don't like it much, but I understand." He paused. "If it goes badly, I may need to take their memory of you trying."

"What do you mean by go badly?"

"Screaming breakdown, trying to trap me in a magic bottle. You'll know it if it happens."

"Will that hurt them?"

"No, it'll be like you never said anything at all."

"Are you saying if I don't agree to that you won't let me tell them?" he asked, hoping he'd misunderstood. He felt more than heard the breath escape Bucky in a long sigh.

"It's not a matter of me _letting_ you tell them. I won't stop you. I just need you to understand that if it doesn't go the way you think it will I may need to undo it."

He relaxed, leaning up to kiss Bucky softly; felt Bucky relax against him as he returned the kiss. "It's not going to go badly. I know them. They're going to think I'm crazy at first, but it'll work out okay."

"I hope you're right."

"I know I'm right."

Bucky rubbed his cheek on Steve's hair, kissed the top of his head. "What's your plan?"

"Tell them?"

"That's a terrible plan."

"Why?"

"You should at least start with proof. I'm not exactly thrilled at the idea of doing magic for them, but if you want me to, I can, and _then_ you can tell them."

"No, it'll be fine. I'll just sit them down and explain. They know me. They'll listen."

"You have the worst plans." Steve glared at him, but there was no heat behind it, and Bucky raised his hand in surrender, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Okay, we'll try it your way first. But don't blame me if it doesn't work."


	6. The Blessings of Old Friends

"No Bucky?" Sam asked.

"He's around," Steve replied, gesturing them both to sit on the couch.

Natasha was frowning critically at the apartment. "This place seems bigger."

Steve scratched the back of his head. "Uh, yeah. It does." They both looked at him oddly. "How about you both sit down. There's something I need to talk to you about." Now they were looking at each other, but they sat. Steve dropped to sit in the kitchen chair he'd dragged over. "Okay. If I was going to tell you something big, would you want me to ease into it or tell you fast, like ripping off a bandaid?"

"What big news do you have?" Natasha asked.

"Are you getting married?" Sam asked, running over the end of her question. "Because you kind of sound like me when I was telling people I was getting married."

"No! No, nothing like that. Nothing that ordinary." And there were the odd looks again.

"Ooookay. Fast?" Sam asked Natasha and she nodded.

"Definitely fast."

"It's about Bucky."

"Called it!" Sam said smugly.

"Please, like there was anyone who didn't know this was going to be about Bucky."

"Fair point."  

"Guys, please." They turned back to him. "You know I'd never lie to you about anything."

"Because you can't," Natasha pointed out.

"Because I love you," Steve corrected, going for the big guns. "And that means I wouldn’t lie to you even if I could." It definitely got their attention and they were looking at him seriously now. "Definitely not about anything big. So, this is going to sound weird and you're probably going to think I'm crazy, so I'm just going to say it. Bucky," the words were sticking in his throat, because he loved them, and he trusted them, but this was huge and he met their eyes in turn, trying to communicate how important this was. "Bucky isn't human."

Silence stretched between them into what felt like eternity. Steve spent it rethinking his entire approach to this, now that it was too late to change anything.

Sam and Natasha exchanged a look. "And when you say he isn't human," Natasha finally said, "you mean..."

"He's a genie," he said, and kind of wanted to cringe at how it sounded.

Another look, faces carefully neutral. "Like, three wishes, comes out of a magic lamp, wears a lot of curtains kind of genie?" Sam asked.

"Well, it was a bottle and black leather and it was a lot more complicated than three wishes, but yeah, basically."

"Did Bucky _tell_ _you_ he was a genie?" Natasha asked.

"Well, yes," because he had, "but it was kind of obvious in hindsight."

"I see."

"You don't believe me," he said. And okay, maybe Bucky had been right that this wasn't the best way to do this. "You know I can't lie to you."

They glanced at each other again. "We believe that _you_ believe what you're saying, Steve," Natasha said gently.  "We're just concerned you might be confused or that Bucky might be—"

"Might be putting one over on you," Sam finished bluntly. "I'm not sure what pretending to be a genie gets you, but there you go."

Steve smiled ruefully. "It's okay. I shouldn't have asked you to believe me. Not without proof. It's too big. Can I show you?"

"Sure, Steve," Sam said soothingly. "You can show us."

"Bucky," he said softly. Bucky appeared behind Steve, eyes bright gold, and dropped his single hand to rest on Steve's shoulder, his empty left sleeve fluttering slightly.

"Shouldn't there be a puff of smoke, maybe some flashing lights?" Sam swirled his hands around. "Would make it more believable."

"How do you get your eyes that colour?" Natasha asked.

"And didn't you used to have two arms?" Sam added.

Bucky leaned forward over Steve's shoulder. "You were right," Steve said.

"I told you," Bucky replied and kissed the tip of his nose before straightening.

 _That_ got Sam and Natasha's attention. "Has this turned into an us situation?" Sam asked.

Steve nodded. "That's why I wanted to tell you. Bucky and me, we're pretty much it forever." He felt Bucky's hand settle gently on his head, fingers sliding into his hair. "I didn't want to lie to you, even by omission, and you were going to notice his arm, which would have meant more lying. So I needed to tell you. But you can't tell anyone."

"That he's a genie," Natasha said flatly.

Steve nodded again.

"Steve, that's impossible. There's no such thing as genies, or fairies, or lizard people or anything else." She fastened a terrifying glare on Bucky. "I don't know what's going on here and I don't know what game you're playing, but—"

"Natasha, stop," Bucky said, interrupting her. "This is important to Steve, so I'm willing to prove it to you. What do you want me to do?"

"To prove you're a genie?"

Bucky nodded.

"You can't, because it's not possible."

"What about if we take you somewhere?" Steve asked.

"Where?" Sam asked.

"Anywhere you want."

"I've always wanted to go to Tahiti," Sam mused, glancing at Natasha. "I've heard it's a magical place."

She shot Sam a narrow-eyed glare then turned it on Bucky. "Fine. Take us to Tahiti, right now, and I'll consider believing you're a genie."

Steve looked at Bucky, who nodded again. Steve stood up. "Take my hands. It's going to be cold, but that'll only last for a second."

"Seriously?" Sam asked.

"Seriously, Sam. I told you, I'm not lying."

"Okay, man." Sam grasped his hand. Natasha grudgingly took his other. Both had the distinct air of humouring him.

Bucky stepped forward and wrapped his arm around Steve's waist. "Close your eyes," he said and then Sam and Natasha were stumbling in the sand on a pristine white beach under the tropical sun. They would have fallen if not for their grips on Steve's hands; their weight would have pulled him over if not for Bucky's hold on his waist. They got their balance and then they just _stared_. Steve let go of their hands. 

"Where are we?" Natasha asked, eyes darting suspiciously as she glared around her.

"Tahiti," Bucky replied, backing off to lean against a palm tree a few feet away. 

"Tahiti," Sam repeated. He crouched down to run his hand through the sand, let it trickle through his fingers. "It feels real," he said, looking up at Natasha.

"It can't be real because that's insane. We can't be in Tahiti. We were just sitting on Steve's couch in San Francisco. Tahiti is over four thousand miles away."

"Natasha," Steve said softly and she whipped her head around and stared at him, eyes narrowed. "It's real. Sun, sea, sand." He pointed at each in turn. "It's all real. We're in Tahiti. Bucky is a genie. I would never lie to you about something like this. I would never trick you. You know that. You know me. I know it sounds crazy but trust me."

"Steve." She was still the way Bucky could be still and he could see her thinking. "We're really in Tahiti."

"We are."

"Bucky brought us here."

"He did."

"Bucky's really a genie?"

Steve smiled. "Yeah, he is."

"I want you to know that's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said to me. And you've said some incredibly ridiculous things to me over the years."

"I know."

"You believe him?" Sam asked.

"It's Steve," she replied, gesturing at Steve.

Sam nodded. "That is a convincing argument. Especially when you add it to all this." He gestured at the beach surrounding them.  "I have a question though." He pushed up to his feet, walked past Steve to plant himself between Steve and Bucky. "If you are a genie, or some sort of magic whatever, because Nat's right, that sounds ridiculous, what do you want with Steve?"

"Sam, it's all right."

"No, Steve. I remember these stories from when I was a kid, faeries and shit seducing people, and they always end badly. You've got enough power to bring us halfway around the world so, tell me, what do you want with Steve? Are you playing with him?"

Bucky was silent, watching Sam from golden eyes, before he finally spoke. "I was imprisoned in a bottle and forced to grant wishes for a thousand years." His voice was calm, as if they were discussing the weather. Steve was not calm, found his fingers curling a little, wanting to be fists as he listened to Bucky. "Then I was...cursed. No more wishes, just obedience with no limitations to whoever summoned me out of the bottle. Every person the same as the last. Until Steve. He didn't use me. He didn't use my power. He didn't force me to do anything."

"Well, it's Steve; of course he didn't," Sam said matter-of-factly. A ghost of a smile shimmered across Bucky's face, there and gone. "That doesn't actually answer my question."

Except it had answered Sam's question, Sam just didn't know Bucky well enough to understand that. "He lost his arm saving me," Steve said before Bucky could speak and Sam turned to face him.

"What?"

"His arm. It's how he lost it." The entire truth was too complex to explain and, at its heart, this was truth. "The people who cursed him wanted him back. They were going to kill me. Bucky stopped them but the only way to do it was to..." He couldn’t finish. He shivered once, remembering, and pushed past Sam to walk into Bucky, who pulled him close. He could feel their eyes on him but right in that moment he didn't care, just needed to touch him, to remind himself that Bucky was safe.

"I'm not playing with him," Bucky said quietly, eyes gleaming gold.

Steve turned in Bucky's arm to face them. "He's not."

"Okay," Sam said, studying them, before glancing back at Natasha. "Okay."

"You can't tell anyone about him," Steve said. "If the wrong person believed you, they could try and trap him again."

"Oh, trust me," Natasha said. "That's one thing I can guarantee. I'm never mentioning this. To anyone. Ever."

"What she said, only twice as hard," Sam said.

There was a short silence, the waves on the sand and the wind through the palm trees the only sounds.

"Did I do the wrong thing to tell you?" Steve finally asked. "I didn't want to lie to you. And maybe it wouldn't have mattered, maybe it would never have come up. But my life with Bucky is different than a normal life. You were going to notice eventually. You _already_ noticed and that was before we were," the corner of his mouth twitched, "an us. It was only going to get worse. You're my best friends. You're my _family_. I never want to lie to you."

"Oh hell, Steve. Come here." Sam pulled him into a hug, squeezed him hard, and let him go. "No, you didn't do the wrong thing. It's just going to take some getting used to."

"Natasha?"

"You didn't do the wrong thing. I'm not sure this was the best way to go about it," she said, reaching out to ruffle his hair, ignoring him as he batted at her hand, feigning annoyance. "But I'm not sure there was a good way." She shifted her attention to Bucky. "I guess I know how you found the watch."

Bucky, with small smile, inclined his head. Steve breathed out a silent sigh of relief.

Natasha was still watching Bucky and her lips twitched slightly. "And I guess we don't have to worry about you hurting Steve anymore." To Bucky questioning look, she waved at his left shoulder. "I mean, you're pretty armless."

Steve stared at her, appalled, and Sam's, "Natasha, that is not cool," carried across the sand. Bucky was shaking his head, but his mouth was curving into a crooked smile to match the one Natasha couldn’t seem to stop and then she was smirking at him and Bucky was laughing, low and quiet.  Steve shared a horrified glance with Sam and dropped his head into his hand, but he couldn’t help the flash of warmth at the sound of Bucky's laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from a Ralph Waldo Emerson quote: _It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them._ It seemed fitting.


	7. One Year Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out Steve's not the only human in the city with a genie, but humans with genies are generally not using them for good. When Steve disappears and Bucky's link to him is cut, Bucky, Sam, and Natasha will turn the city upside down to find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know how I said this was a series of (mostly) unconnected short one-shots? I kinda lied a little. This chapter is unconnected, but it's a _bit_ longer than the others. I hope no one minds. Takes place one year after the end of _If Wishing Made It So_.
> 
>  **Warning for:** magically induced feelings of unwanted sexual attraction. On-screen, the feelings are not acted upon; it's implied that they are acted upon off-screen but this does not involve any named characters.

The man with the genie knew the wishes had limits. Everyone knew there were things you couldn’t wish for. _Everyone_ knew you couldn't wish for more wishes. 

 _Everyone_ was very stupid and the man with the genie was very smart. All you had to do was ask him and he'd tell you.

He'd stumbled across the genie deep in a gold mine, the bottle clutched in the fingers of a human skeleton.  He couldn’t know, of course, but he suspected the dead man had wished for gold. That was the danger. You had to be careful. You had to specify. You had to _think._ Or it would all go wrong. He'd seen the hatred in the genie's eyes when he'd summoned her out of the bottle. He knew she'd get him if she could.   

He carefully spent his first two wishes giving himself power over other people; he suspected they were very common wishes.

For his third wish, oh, for his third wish, that was where his brilliance shone.

Everyone knew you couldn’t wish for more wishes. No one ever said you couldn’t wish for more _genies._

His third wish gave him the ability to find genies, wherever they might be. People would take him wherever he wanted to go, give him whatever he wanted, tell him whatever he needed to know. For those had been his first two wishes: that everyone would desire him and that everyone would speak truth to him.  It gave him power to burn.

His second and third genies were found in Cairo and Canberra respectively. He used five wishes, giving himself powers and beauty, saving one wish in reserve, before seeking out his next genie. It led him to San Francisco.

It led him to something extraordinary.

In San Francisco he found another man with a genie. He'd been disappointed at first, because a genie with a Master was of no use to him. He decided to stay, because all he had to do was wait out the three wishes and he could claim the bottle for himself.  He set himself up in Alcatraz Penitentiary; was thrilled to find a huge concrete bunker in its depths, enjoying the super villain aspect of it. (Although he'd be very quick to tell you that he wasn't a villain. Of any kind.) He used his wish-granted ability to summon material things to outfit the bunker in the finest of goods: electronic equipment and furniture, furs and paintings, clothes and appliances, all manner of tchotchkes and luxuries; everything he needed to render the place worthy of his habitation.

When he was satisfied, he used another wish-granted ability to erect a dome in the room that would block all magic. In a world with genies, he reasoned, there were bound to be other magical creatures and he needed to protect himself from their attentions. (He was not as smart as he would tell you he was, but he was far from stupid.)

He returned to watch the Master of the genie and was shocked to see the genie's magic being used for ordinary things. He felt a brief moment of pity for the man, because to waste his paltry three wishes on petty conveniences was just sad, but it was good for him so he settled in to wait. They didn't notice him, because he used another wish-granted power: the ability to remain unnoticed. It came in handy when the insistent press of people who wanted to gaze at his beauty or have sex with him became tiring.

But the man kept using the genie, well beyond the span of three wishes. No one else noticed. It was a failing of most people, to not notice magic when it happened under their noses. They would simply not see it, would explain it away. But he was not most people and he could see the genie's magic being used.

How.

How had the man done this? How had he bound this genie beyond three wishes? Unlimited wishes. It was the Holy Grail. It was everything.

He had to know.

 

* * *

 

Bucky appeared in Natasha's living room, eyes so bright they were nearly burning, lips pulled back off his teeth.

"Holy shit!"

"Bucky, what the fuck?"

Bucky scanned the room. "Steve?"

"He's not here; he left half an hour ago," Natasha said.

The noise Bucky made was not human, was almost a creaking growl, dragged deep out of his core. It drove both Sam and Natasha to their feet and they approached him warily. "Bucky? What's wrong? Is Steve okay?" she asked

"I can't feel him."

He saw them exchange a glance. "We don't know what that means," Sam said.

"I have, we have a link." He shoved his fist against his sternum, hard enough to bruise. "So I can always find him. But I can't find him."

He watched them pale, watched their eyes go wide, watch the impossible, unacceptable, idea cross their faces. "No," he growled. "No. I'd know if he was dead. I can still feel it. But it's like someone cut the rope. The rope's still there, he's still there, he still exists, I just can't follow it to him anymore. He is _not dead_." He felt power curling off his skin, could see the gold like smoke out of the corner of his eyes.

"Okay." Natasha took a deep breath. "Okay. What could cut the rope." Bucky glared at her. "You said it, not me. So figure it out. What could cut the rope?"

"Nothing."

"Obviously something could, you just said so yourself."

"No, there's nothing in this city powerful enough to sever my link to Steve."

"Then how come you can't find him?" Sam asked, answering Bucky's half snarl with raised hands and a pointed look. "Come on, man. _Something_ cut you off from him. You need to figure it out."

They were right. He was too angry _not just angry, panicked, he was panicked, he had to calm down_. Bucky forced himself to stop. To think. To breathe. There was nothing that could sever his link to Steve, not without him feeling it. There hadn't been anger or fear or pain. Just between one moment and the next, Steve had been gone. "If he's somewhere magic doesn't work or inside someone's shields, inside a barrier, that might block it."

"Okay, so how do you find that?" Natasha's voice was absolutely calm, absolutely reasonable, and Bucky found himself grateful.

"I look for a place where magic isn't."

He closed his eyes and sank to sit cross-legged on the floor, let his power flow free, searching through the city, searching for all the spots where magic wasn't. Not where there was a lack of magic, which was most of the city, but where there was a null spot, a void. "There's dozens of places." He rose to his feet, graceful and feral, and Natasha was right in front of him.

"You're not going without us," she told him.

"Steve's our friend. You might need us."

Bucky called his magic, golden fire spilling off his hand, surrounding him, licking across the floor, around their feet. "Why would I need you?"

"To do the thinking if nothing else," Natasha said, one eyebrow raised, apparently unimpressed by the flames dancing around her feet.

Sam folded his arms and added, "Also: voice of reason. On a scale of one to burn the city to the ground, how angry are you?"

He looked at them, could see their worry, their determination; he looked inside himself, where his wrath was fighting with his fear. Made his decision. "You can come with me. But you need to do what I say." He let the flames die, held out his arm. "You have to come here. You'll have to be touching me, or I could lose you."

He could see wordless communication flowing between them. Then they stepped forward. Sam wrapped one hand around Bucky's bicep, Natasha one hand around his wrist. Almost without meaning to, knowing what they meant to Steve, he wrapped his magic around them, watched their eyes widen as they felt it settle over their skin. "It won't hurt you. It's to keep you safe," he muttered, uncomfortable when he'd only ever done this for Steve. "Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"What she said."

"Will you just trust me and close your eyes?"

They finally did. Bucky moved them through the cold and the dark.

 

* * *

 

Steve had a moment of surprise when grey concrete walls appeared in front of him instead of the street he'd been walking down and then he was yanked backwards through a vaguely silver sheen in the air. He stumbled but caught his balance in what appeared to be a luxury frat house, possibly one furnished by drunken monkeys who'd run wild through a high class brothel.

"I wasn't sure that would work. I guess people do count as material things."

The guy standing in front of Steve, apparently extremely pleased with himself, was exquisite, a Michelangelo statue come to life, freed from its plinth to walk among mere mortals. Steve had the burning, barely resistible desire to climb him like a tree, to sink his teeth into the smooth muscle where the supple neck joined the perfect jaw and lick his way down.

There was fire under his skin, shooting up his spine, and he was almost painfully aroused.  

He knew it wasn't real because there was _nothing_ in his mind that wanted him.  Sweat was prickling on his skin. He knew it wasn't real because he was Bucky first, Bucky only and this guy might be gorgeous but he wasn't Bucky. He dug his fingernails into his palms, hard enough to hurt, and controlled it.  He knew it wasn't real because he was pretty sure the woman standing behind the guy was a genie.

Her eyes looked like Bucky's. Not the colour; hers were a blue so deep they were almost purple, but bubbles of gold dotted the surface and they looked like Bucky's when he'd first come out of the bottle. Not quite so cold, not quite so hopeless, but the echo was there. Steve shifted his gaze sideways but it was like trying to meet the eyes of a painting. He may as well not have existed.

The guy grinned. "You want to fuck me, don't you?"

Steve, who had no intention of answering, found himself saying, "Yes."

"Don't worry about it. Everyone does; it was one of my wishes. Doesn’t matter whether they're gay, straight, bi, whatever, _everyone_ wants to fuck me. It gets a little tiring after a while. "

"I bet," Steve said through gritted teeth and tried to take a swing at the guy but he couldn’t make his arms work.

"Oh yeah, that's another thing. You're not going to be able to move. Another wish. Anyway, I'm Norman." He paused, waiting expectantly. When Steve didn't say anything, he prompted him. "This is where you introduce yourself."

Steve glared at him.

"What's your name?"

"Steve Rogers."

"Pleased to meet you, Steve. I think we've got a lot to talk about."

 

* * *

 

They stood inside a beige walled room in an entirely ordinary community centre, a chalk outline on the floor marking out a circle that encompassed most of the room. Inside the circle was...

"This is an orgy," Sam said. Voice completely calm, as if he'd pushed past horror and into some point beyond it.

Bucky glanced over the naked and writhing humans. "Yes." He stepped across the line and shuddered slightly as the very human and entirely benign magic pressed against his skin. "Steve's not here."

"An orgy," Sam repeated.

"They're raising power. It's harmless." He stepped back across the line and held out his arm. "Let's go."

As Sam reached for his arm, he squinted at one of the people in the circle. "I think that old lady looks familiar."

Natasha followed his gaze and her eyebrows went up. "I hope I'm that athletic when I'm her age."

Bucky didn't say anything, just carried them through the dark.

 

* * *

 

"I've never met someone else with a genie," Norman said, walking around the room. The genie remained where she'd been, ignoring them, as if neither human existed.

"No one alive, anyway," he continued. "I found my first genie in a dead man's hand. So there wasn't really much of a chance for conversation."

Steve couldn't move his body. He'd been trying while Norman talked. And talked. He could move his eyes. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. There were two bottles on a shelf. A jade bottle on an ugly table.

Norman followed his gaze, seemed pleased that Steve had spotted them. "Three," he said, smugness rolling off him like a wave. "I've had three genies. She's my third." He waved a hand at the genie standing, still and silent, in the middle of the room.

If Steve's glare had physical presence, Norman would be dead where he stood. 

"Oh, I know. It's brilliant, isn't it? Everyone knows you can't wish for more wishes. Which makes sense, otherwise no one would ever wish for anything else. I can't even be mad about it because it's so _easy_ to get around. I'm honestly a bit surprised no ever thought of it before. All you have to do." He walked over to Steve, leaning down so he could stand nose to nose with him. "Is wish for the ability to find more genies." He smiled a slow, lazy smile. Steve felt a spike of _want_ he knew wasn't real _._ He countered it with _Bucky_ , thoughts a formless swirl of everything Bucky was, held it in front of the desire like a shield. "It's a bit of work, but it's effectively unlimited wishes. There's more genies out there than you'd think."

Steve felt sick at the thought.

"But you." Norman turned away, walked across the room, waved one hand in the air before turning back to Steve and pointing at him. "But you've found something better and I want to know how you did it. You seem to have a permanent genie. You seem to have figured out a way to keep him. I've seen you wasting his magic on trivial things. So I need to know, Steve, how you keep him, how you make him serve you past three wishes."

Steve didn't answer except to glare harder at Norman.

"Aw, Steve. I was hoping we could be friends. I've got a genie, you've got a genie. All you've got to do is tell me how you managed it. I won't even take yours, not if whatever you did will work on mine." He waved his hand at the genie in the middle of the room. She didn't react. Didn't acknowledge them in any way.

Steve remained silent, but he hoped his glare was saying _go fuck yourself_ as clearly as he knew how.

Norman sighed. "Well, okay then. If that's how you want to do it. How do you make the genie serve you? "

His mouth started moving, he started speaking; he couldn't stop himself.  "He doesn't serve me."

Norman frowned. "You have to speak the truth to me. I wished it. You can't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"You use him. You use his magic. I've seen it. How do you do it without the wishes?"

"I don't _use_ him. I would never _use_ him or his magic."

For the first time, he had the genie's attention. Norman seemed to be unaware, was standing with a look of baffled confusion on his face.

 

* * *

 

The last two spots had been nothing, barriers raised over prosaic objects for reasons Bucky suspected were entirely sentimental.

This one was not nothing.

"That's a giant snake!" Sam whispered.

Bucky crouched low and dragged them both down with him. "That's a snake god."

"I feel like that's very bad," Natasha hissed in his ear.

"That depends on whether or not you like having a world to walk around in," Bucky replied, watching the snake god, watching the six humans in their long robes, the slashes of red on the ground that he knew were drawn in blood, the six torches illuminating the hellish scene.

Only the snake god's head had been pulled through the portal, but it dwarfed the humans, its fangs as tall as Bucky; as he watched, it punched through a little further, the portal widening as the humans continued chanting.

Bucky was powerful; there were few things stronger than a genie in full possession of his magic, but a snake god fully manifested in this world was one of them.  Preventing it from fully manifesting was going to be challenge enough. He looked at Natasha; he looked at Sam.  "Can you stop the humans? If I hold the god in the portal, if I hold the portal from opening further. Can you stop them? If they finish the incantation it will fully manifest and all of this city will die."

"Yes," she said.

"We can stop them."

"Then go."

He had almost no attention to spare for them as they hit the shield and burst through, Bucky behind them, his magic protecting them from whatever traps the shield might have carried. It took all of his power to hold the portal from opening further and he felt the god focus on him.

Felt it mark him. Felt it _remember_ him.

He was vaguely aware of screams of pain and the sound of fists and feet against flesh. His power was straining, the night was filled with the golden light streaming out of him. The snake god snapped at him, fangs dripping with poison, but it couldn't quite reach, was locked behind the portal Bucky was barely holding closed. He wasn't sure he could hold it any longer.

Suddenly it slammed shut, the snake god shoved back into its own dimension. Exhausted, he let his magic fade.

The cultists weren't moving. They were all in various stage of beaten up, all unconscious. Sam and Natasha were bruised, limping; Sam had a split lip, Natasha had a black eye but they were mostly unharmed.

"What do we do with them now?" Natasha asked.

Bucky didn't care, would have been happy to toss them in the portal after their would-be god, but it was closed. He waved his hand and they disappeared.  "Uh, what did you do?" Sam asked.

"Wiped their memory, dumped them in a park. Someone will deal with them eventually. Come here."

They were watching him warily. "You can do that?" Sam asked.

Bucky sighed. "Yes I can do that, no I've never done it to you. Will you come here so I can heal you and set all of this," he pointed to where they were standing, "on fire?"

It took them a minute, wasted time in which Bucky wanted to scream, but they eventually came close enough that he could touch them. He used a spark of power to heal their wounds. Used another to light the entire magic circle on fire and it blazed high, obliterating all evidence of what had happened.

"Wait," Sam said as the flames licked higher. "Did we just save the world? We just saved the world."

"Yes, you just saved the world. Can we go? This is more important."

"Than saving the world," Natasha said.

"Yes."

"You mean that don't you?" she asked. "Steve's more important to you than the world."

" _Yes_." He practically snarled it.

"Let's go."

 

* * *

 

Norman did not seem to be happy with Steve. He'd spent quite some time accusing Steve of lying. Which, as far as Steve knew, was impossible since truth had been one of Norman's wishes. Pointing that out had gotten him a weasel-eyed glare and a minor temper tantrum.

It had also gotten him actual eye contact with the genie, and a look Steve didn't know how to interpret.

Norman came stomping back and stormed to a halt in front of Steve. "How do you make him obey you?"

"He doesn't obey me."

"How do you make him do things for you?"

"I don't make him do things for me."

"How do you make him stay with you?"

"I don't make him stay with me."  Steve was starting to, not enjoy this, precisely, but there was something very satisfying about responding with the exact truth and no more.

Norman gave a little scream of frustration. " _Why_ does he stay with you?"

Steve's heart stuttered. He didn't want to answer. He didn't have a choice. "He stays because I love him and he, whatever the genie equivalent of love is, he feels that for me."

Steve found himself on the receiving end of a completely baffled stare. "What?"

He repeated it. 

Norman clapped his hands and laughed. "That's clever, that's so clever. I didn't think of that, I never thought of that. Wish for the genie to fall in love with you, then they'll stay forever. Was that your second wish? Then you wished him free? I'll need another genie, I only have one more wish from her, but I can find another one. "

Steve's eyes went wide with horror. "No! No, can you even wish someone in love with you?" he asked the genie. She shook her head, just once, just the barest amount. Norman didn't notice.

"Can you?" Norman turned towards the genie.

"No, Master."

Steve's gut twisted at the word, remembering it coming from Bucky's mouth when Steve had first summoned him from the bottle.

 

* * *

 

Bucky wasn't expecting anyone to attack them. He should have. If his mind hadn't been full of Steve, hadn't been full of the _absence_ of Steve, he would have. He barely got himself between Sam and Natasha and the magic in time. It splashed harmlessly off his own, leaving trails of golden light in the night air.

It was magic he recognised.

"Glastig."

"Genie."

"I see you've found more humans." It nodded its head at Sam and Natasha.

Bucky could see other glastig through the blue green shimmer of the barrier that had brought them here. "I have."

"I see you managed to shed the chains the other one placed on you."

Bucky forced down a spike of anger, wrestled it into submission. Bared his teeth only slightly as he replied, "He didn't place the chains on me, but together we broke them. I'm free now, thanks to him."

The glastig appeared to be thinking that over. The unblinking eyes of its fellows stared out at them through the barrier. "Then should I apologise for my actions?"

He knew the glastig were proud and demanding an apology would end up with a fight he didn't have time for. "No. You tried to free me. I had to stop you, I won't allow anything to hurt him, but you tried to free me. No apologies necessary."

The glastig nodded, its posture easing slightly. "And what brings you to our revels this night, genie?"

"I'm looking for my human, the one you thought was responsible for the chains on me. Something's blocking my link to him. So I'm checking every magic barrier, every shield, every magical void in the city."

The glastig turned to face its fellows. Bucky could sense something in the air, like a low hum through his bones. It turned back to him. "We do not know if your human is there, but there are traces of _your_ kind on Alcatraz."

"Thank you." Bucky bowed low, reached for Sam and Natasha, who had remained thankfully silent through the exchange, and they were gone.

 

* * *

 

Norman was ranting at the genie, no attention to spare for anything else, when Bucky's magic settled over Steve like a comforting blanket. The desire—the fake, false, infuriating desire—simply vanished. It was so sudden, Steve almost stumbled, but caught himself.

His eyes scanned the room. Found Bucky, just inside the silver shimmer in the air, partially hidden by a huge, overly ornate wooden cabinet. Sam and Natasha were beside him, and he stared for a second in shock, before lifting his fingers in a _wait_ gesture, desperately hoping it would hold him. Bucky's eyes were molten gold but he saw Natasha place one hand on his bicep. Bucky's whole body swayed away from her as his eyes met Steve's. But he stayed. He didn't move. 

Steve shifted his gaze back to Norman and sought the stillness he'd learned from Bucky. He was wrapped in golden warmth and Norman's wish-granted gifts couldn't touch him.  Norman still had one wish left; Steve was going to make him mad enough to use it.

"Hey, Norman." Norman spun to face him. "It's not going to work for you."

"What isn't? What are you talking about?"

"Look, the only reason I have a genie, a permanent genie," and he mentally apologised to Bucky, hoping he'd understand, "is because he loves me. And that's not going to work for you. It's got nothing to do with what you can and can't wish for. It's who you are."

Norman's eyes narrowed. "You're kidding, right? Look at me. I'm perfect. I'm gorgeous. Everyone wants me. _You_ want me."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about. You know what sort of person _makes_ people want them? A bully. A coward. The sort of person no one could ever love because you can't trust them. You can't even like them."

"Shut up."

"You decided what _you_ wanted and what _you_ needed were more important than everyone else in the whole world so you took away their power to choose. You turned other people into things. And you don't even care. I don't even think you noticed."

"Shut the hell up. You don't get to talk to me like that."

"You've been grabbing genies and using them and never even thought about setting them free until you thought it could get you something."

Norman's face was going red and his hands were fists, his chest heaving as he glared at Steve.

Steve forced his voice to be sympathetic, gentle. Kind. "I don't think there's one damn creature, human or genie, on this whole planet who'd ever fall in love with you. You think I'm lying?" he added, striving for a touch of pity. "You're the one who wished for people to tell you the truth."

"Shut up. Shut the hell up!" He whirled to face the genie. "Make him shut up!" She looked back at him impassively. His eyes narrowed, face pinched in rage. "I wish you would make him shut up!"

The genie's eyes glowed, the golden flecks seeming to twist and swirl. She raised a hand, her magic a green and glowing fire, and it lashed out towards Steve. Bucky's rose in response, Steve could feel it like a living thing, a great beast that stirred itself to stand over him, teeth bared, and it snapped the magic out of the air, swallowed it down, turned it into harmless light. 

The genie disappeared, spun into smoke and sucked back into the jade bottle. It rocked slightly before coming to rest. 

Steve smiled, slow and satisfied. "Looks like you wasted your wish."

With an incoherent scream of rage, Norman launched himself at Steve. Steve didn't move. He knew Norman would never reach him. Norman jerked to a halt, was dragged into the air by an invisible force wrapped around his throat, kicking desperately, struggling to breathe.

"Bucky." Steve ran, slid into Bucky hard enough to knock him back a step. "Bucky, don't kill him."

With a deep, shuddering breath, Bucky dropped him. Norman scrambled to his feet, gasping for breath, but before he could run, Sam and Natasha were on him.

Norman was thrashing around, trying to escape, incoherent promises to have sex with both of them interspersed with threats and demands to be released. Steve tried to pull away, to warn them, but Bucky was holding him, whispered not to worry. He called over Steve's head, "It won't work on you. You're protected."

"Are you saying if we weren't, we'd want to?" Sam asked, one foot on Norman's back, shoving him to the floor, disgust crawling through his voice.

"Yes," Steve replied, burying his face in Bucky's chest and breathing in. "It was one of his wishes."

"I will kill him." Bucky's hand was fisted in the back of Steve's shirt.

"Remember your promise." His arms were wrapped around Bucky but he couldn’t get close enough and he pressed his nose into the hollow of his throat. "You're not going to kill him."

"No." Steve felt Bucky's muscles clench under his hand. "I'm not going to _kill_ him." Abruptly, all Norman's noises ceased.

All _human_ noises.

In their place there was a high pitched, angry croaking.

"That seems appropriate," Natasha said after a moment and dragged a glass bowl off a nearby table to drop over the toad.

Now that he knew they'd be safe, Steve was completely focussed on Bucky. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I said you were my genie. I needed him mad enough to use his last wish. I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't," he said, gently stroking his hand down Steve's back. "I had no idea what you were doing, but I know you didn't mean it."

"It was the only way we'd be able to set her free."

"Of course." Bucky tipped his forehead to rest against Steve's. "You're wrong though."

"About what?"

"I am yours." Bucky said it quietly, seriously, eyes a muted gold, the corner of his mouth curling in a tiny smile, and Steve had to kiss him, just once. And then just once more. And then he was lost in kissing Bucky, who was his Bucky, and nothing else in the world mattered as much as this.  

Sam cleared his throat. Did it again. Finally said, "Steve, I hate to interrupt but can you tell us what's going on?"

Steve could, once he refocused on the world, but he did so from the under the curl of Bucky's arm. Steve explained everything, from the moment he'd found himself here. Explained Norman and his genies and his wishes.  And his powers. He could feel Bucky's spike of anger under his sternum, like a flash of lightning, but his sheer solid presence, the warmth of him against his back, drove home just how false the desire had been. He couldn’t help pushing backwards, trying to get closer, and he sighed a little as Bucky's arm tightened around him.

Natasha eyed the large brown toad like she was considering popping him under her shoe.  "What do we do with him?"

"Can you strip his powers?" Steve asked.

"No. I can't take something another genie's given," Bucky said. "But as of now they'll only work on other toads."

"It's not like you can hand him over to the cops," Sam said.

"Leave him as a toad. Drop him in a pond where he can't hurt anyone else," Natasha said. "Let him live the rest of his life as a slimy creature. It's exactly what he shown himself to be. It's fair."

No one disagreed.

 

* * *

 

The three genies' bottle were lined up on a table. Natasha was examining them curiously.  "So all of these are genies?" she asked, reaching out to touch the jade bottle.

Bucky was suddenly there, hand wrapped around her wrist. "Don't."

She pulled back but he didn't let go and his grip was like iron. "Hey," she said, glaring at him.

Bucky drew in one deep breath and softened his grip, shifted it, until his palm was covering the back of her hand. "It's too important. I need it to be Steve."

She searched his face, his eyes, the golden glow not seeming to bother her, and her expression softened. "I won't touch them," she said and, to his surprise, twisted her hand to gently squeeze his before she pulled away. Bucky let her go. She smirked at him as she added, "Dealing with one of you is a big enough pain in the ass. I'd hate to accidentally pick up another one."

He tipped his head in her direction, mouth curling slightly, before calling, "Steve?"

Steve came to stand beside him. Before he could say anything else, Steve said, "Summon them out and set them free."

"Yes." He settled his hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Her first." Steve picked up the jade bottle. Gently rubbed the side.  The genie appeared in a delicate puff of smoke and bowed to him.

"Master."

Steve winced. "No. I'm Steve. This is Bucky." Bucky's fingers tightened on Steve's shoulder. "And Sam and Natasha." Natasha waved one hand and Sam said, "Hey," as if greeting newly summoned genies was something they did everyday. "I'm using all of my wishes to wish you free."

She froze as the bottle in Steve's hands crumbled to dust and her eyes went pure gold, green fire curling off her skin, off her fingertips, as her physical form started to give way.  She stared at Steve in shock, in confusion. "Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do."

Her eyes flicked to Bucky's, as if he could explain, and Bucky just shook his head and wrapped his arm around Steve's shoulders, pulling him tight against his body.  "You're free."

She was still staring when she became a pillar of green flame, spinning towards the ceiling like a hurricane, and was gone.

 

* * *

 

By the time they freed the other two genies, Steve was exhausted. Bucky just wanted to take him home. He considered the toad, which was hunkered down under the glass bowl as if plotting world domination. "Natasha, do you know somewhere you can dump the toad?"

She looked at him in surprise. "Sure, if you want. There's a pon--"

"Don't tell me." He could feel Steve watching him. "I don't think I should know."

Sam stripped a pillow and dumped the toad into the pillowcase, tying a knot in the top so it couldn't escape.  "We’ll take care of it," he said. 

"Thank you," Bucky said to both of them and meant it. He was beginning to understand why they were so important to Steve. 

After a moment of silence that wanted to be awkward but didn't quite manage it, Sam said, "I don't know about you but I'm ready to call it a night."

"I'm with Sam," Natasha said, slinging the pillowcase over her shoulder. "Saving the world is exhausting."

"Let's go home," Steve said. As they arranged themselves so Bucky could carry them through the cold and the dark, Steve tucked tightly against his side, Bucky felt him come to sudden alertness, craning his head around to stare at Natasha. "Wait," he said, just before they vanished from sight. "What do you mean saving the world is exhausting? When did you _save the world_?"


End file.
